So it’s been a couple of weeks. That is fuck all in the scheme of things, but I’ve got this huge sense of ‘pressure’ that I should be doing stuff – like every minute I spend in my apartment watching tv is a minute I could be out there enjoying the delights of being a single woman in a kind-of happening city.
I think it would be alright if I was 24. Twenty four is a good age. Add thirteen years to that and you get what they call in Japan, ‘stale Christmas cake’ – something past its prime that nobody wants.
That’s the biggest thought I had in mind during the whole decision-making process. I was trying to figure out whether having some sort of relationship (even if I was only 50% happy) was better than the option of having no relationship. Ever. Again.
And I still cringe inside when I keep reminding myself that I’ll be ‘okay’ because someone, somewhere should find me attractive/like me/want to form a relationship with me. Yeah…me and my confidence levels…I’ve got to start being happen in my own skin, right?
So the question is, have I gone vanilla?
I’m not exactly sure what all the labels mean anymore but I do want a relationship with a side of play. I still have buttons that need to be pushed.
Do I want to be a slave? Probably not. There’s only one way that I would be able to get into the headspace required for that and that is to be kept. I don’t seem to have much luck in that area, so I’ve started getting realistic and thinking that I’ve got to stop waiting/expecting to be looked after.
Ten years. In August it will be ten years since I left Japan to follow the dream of being a slave.
The things we do…